Just a Taste (14 page)

“That's a beautiful sight.”

She shot straight up again, her hands moving to conceal everything, unsure of which part would be the worst to leave exposed.

Liam stepped closer and grabbed her wrists. “Come back to bed.” “I was looking for my clothes.”

“I know what you were doing.” He tugged her, but she didn't budge. “Carmen, I swear I can do better than that. I can't go down in your book as your worst lover ever.”

A laugh burst out of her. Once she started, she couldn't stop. Tears streamed down her face. All the tears she'd held back now flowed. When she looked at Liam's face, she tried her best to sober, but when she saw the total consternation deepening the crease between his eyes, another round attacked her, but she swallowed it and forced a calming breath.

“Liam, I told you I have very little experience.” She pulled her hand away from him and touched his cheek. “You are, by far, the best lover I've had.”

“Sweetheart, that isn't saying much. You didn't come. Shit, you didn't even have a fake orgasm.”

“But that's not on you.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She knew he wouldn't understand. She shook her head and bent to retrieve her clothes.

“I don't want you to leave.”

She hadn't thought about it, but leaving wasn't the first thing on her mind. She didn't have a plan other than covering her naked ass. “Okay, but I can't walk around naked.”

“Why not? No one else is here.”

“I would never feel comfortable like that.”

“I'll get you something comfortable to wear. Hold on.”

As he rummaged through his dresser, Carmen imagined all the beautiful women on TV and how they all looked incredibly sexy in their man's shirt or boxers. She glanced at Liam's body and then down at hers. No, she wouldn't look like that. His shirt wouldn't hang halfway down her thigh, showing just enough to make him want to look. Most of her would probably still be hanging out.

Sticking with her own clothes would be her best choice.

He turned from his drawer and handed her a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She eyed them. They both looked baggy. Not sexy, but definitely comfortable. Looked like he wanted to cover her up as much as she wanted to cover up.

“Thanks.” She slipped the clothes on quickly. Liam pulled on a pair of boxers and nothing else.

“Ready for dessert?”

“Huh?”

“I have cheesecake, remember?”

“Shoot. We didn't clean up. Your kitchen's a mess.” She moved past him to go clean up.

“Carmen.” His tone was serious, so she turned. “We'll clean up, but then we're bringing dessert back here.”

Something in his voice caused a shiver to race down her back. She'd avoided dessert for more years than she'd care to think about. He made her crave dessert.

Liam made her want a lot of things, and that made her all kinds of nervous.

CHAPTER 8

F
rustration filled Liam. He knew he had a reputation for being single-minded; the trait served him well in the kitchen. He never considered himself selfish in bed, but that's exactly how he felt at the moment. Things between him and Carmen were hot. There was no denying the chemistry. But she held back. She wasn't comfortable, and he blamed himself.

He followed her back into the kitchen and devised a plan for the rest of their night. She was already scraping food into the trash and filling the sink. “I have a dishwasher.”

Her head popped up from where she concentrated on dishes. “Oh.” She turned the water off. He watched her move around his kitchen, piling dishes and wiping down the counter, anything to avoid the elephant in the room.

That damn elephant sat on his chest, suffocating him.

She continued to move as if he wasn't even there. She came around the corner of the counter to pick up their wineglasses.

“Stop.” His sharp tone made her freeze. She cautiously looked at him. “Just stop, Carmen. What are you doing?”

“I'm cleaning—”

He snatched a wineglass from her hand and slapped it back on the table, shattering the stem. Shards of glass sprayed out. “Fuck!” He glanced at his hand. No cuts. “Don't move,” he said to her.

Before attempting to clear the broken glass, he inhaled deeply. He needed to get his frustration under control. He couldn't deal with her avoiding the fact that he—they—had had sex, and it was lousy for her.

Only she'd said it wasn't. What else would a woman say, though? Unless she was a nasty bitch, which he couldn't imagine Carmen ever being, she would give him a pat and say it was okay.

“Liam?” Her voice was small, and he hated to think he'd frightened her.

He took a wide step over where glass might lay to get close to her. He took the other glass from her hand and set it gently on the table. “Come here.” He pulled her toward the living room.

Once in front of the couch, he nudged her to sit. She sat with her hands in her lap, fingers entwined and twisting. He squatted in front of her and placed his hands over hers. “If this is going to work, Carmen, we need to be honest.”

She bit her lip and nodded, but continued to stare at her hands like she was bracing for something bad.

“It's making me crazy that you're acting like what just happened in the bedroom was not only okay, but that it was good for you. We can't make it better if you're not honest.”

She looked up into his eyes. Her throat worked with a swallow. “I am being honest.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “I told you I didn't have much experience and you shouldn't expect much.”

“I expect you to enjoy yourself.” He stroked his palm on her cheek.

“I was.” She reopened her eyes. “I've never had an orgasm from sex. I don't think I can. That doesn't mean it doesn't feel good or that I'm not enjoying everything.”

He couldn't argue. Being near her, touching her, kissing her, being inside her was a pretty incredible feeling. He still wanted her to come, though. “Have you ever?”

“Ever what?”

He was almost afraid of the answer. “Had an orgasm?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She wasn't even sure. What the hell kind of guys had she slept with?

She pulled her hands away and tried to stand. “I can't do this.”

He stood, blocking her path. With his hands on her hips—he loved the curves of her body—he held her in place. “Why not? Talk to me.”

She laughed a small chuckle. “You are the least talkative person I know. It's one of your better qualities.”

“But I talk when it needs to be done. We need to talk about this, Carmen.”

She rested her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo.

“It's hard. I'm not used to talking about this stuff.”

“Then let's start with the obvious. The guys you've slept with were jerks. Or they didn't know what they were doing.” He felt her lips curve against his chest. “Screw the dishes. Let's grab the cheesecake and go back to bed.”

She might relax in bed, as long as he didn't ask her to get naked. She stiffened at his suggestion, though.

“We'll talk. Share dessert. Figure this out. I'm a man on a mission now, and I don't give up easily. “

“Okay.”

He thought he'd have to convince her to stay, but her acquiescence came easily. If only everything worked like that.

“But not the whole cheesecake. One piece to share.”

He slid his hand into hers. “That's barely a taste. It won't be enough.”

She rolled her eyes. He surveyed his kitchen, which was basically trashed. Dirty dishes piled up, the broken glass on the table. He held his cringe in, knowing that a conversation with Carmen was far more important, but he
never
left his workspace looking like that. He took the cheesecake out of the refrigerator and compromised. He sliced a really big piece and put it on a plate.

“That's not a normal piece.”

“Work with me. You'll be glad once you try it.”

He reached into the silverware drawer and debated, but settled on one fork. He wanted to feed her, to enjoy watching her indulge.

In the bedroom, she halted just inside the door. “I've never done this.”

“What?”

“Hung out in bed with a guy. I only spent the whole night with a guy once and that was because we were both too drunk to move. But hanging out in bed, talking, eating. Nope.”

Alcohol would explain at least some of her sexual disappointment. He turned on his bedside lamp. A soft glow filled the room. “It's easy. Relax and get comfortable.”

He yanked back the covers and gestured with his arm for her to get in. She sat with her back against the headboard, barely disturbing anything. He climbed in beside her. The sudden urge to touch her and be in contact came on strong. He sat, facing her, slid one leg beneath both of hers, and leaned closer with a forkful of cake.

She opened her mouth and took the piece against her tongue. “Mmm . . . delicious.”

Rather than take a bite for himself, he readied the fork for her. “I know you're embarrassed to talk about this, but I want to make love to you, Carmen. I want you to explode with pleasure. I want to make you come so hard, your body will be useless.”

She swallowed the cheesecake and he watched her throat work. She didn't close her eyes, which he saw as improvement. A small victory. He reached across her and set the plate on the nightstand.

“What if we lie here and just explore? We won't have sex. I want to find out what you like and if you can't tell me, we'll have to figure it out.” He leaned forward and kissed her, loving the taste of creamy sweetness on her tongue. His hand slid under her shirt, but she stopped him.

“The light.”

“You're still fully clothed. I see you like this every day.” He kissed her lips. “Besides, you have a gorgeous body.”

“I'm self-conscious about my body. Especially with you.”

“Why especially with me?” Had he ever done anything to make her feel inadequate?

She closed her eyes slowly, something he realized she did to gather strength. “When you look at me, it's like . . . I don't know. You see more than I want you to.” Her eyes opened. “You're like that with everything. So completely observant. Like you can't miss a detail.” She scrunched up her nose. “There are lots of details I'd like you to
not
notice.”

He'd known girls with body image issues. It wasn't unusual, but most of them could forget about it for a while during sex. They could let go of their hang-ups to have a good time. Carmen would need to do at least that.

“So leave your clothes on until you want them off.” He kissed her neck while he pushed higher under her shirt, his fingers seeking her full breasts. He palmed her breast and then lightly pinched her nipple. “Do you like that?”

“Uh-huh.” She followed with a nod that had her jaw bumping his nose.

He moved his hand to her other breast. Her pulse quickened beneath his tongue. He spread his hand on her belly as he headed south. She stiffened.

“I don't like that.”

“What?” He hadn't done anything. He pulled away to look at her.

“Your hand on my stomach.” She rolled her eyes again. “I told you I don't much like my body. I feel fat. Your hand on my stomach makes me feel fat.”

He had no idea how to change her mind. “You're not fat. I like touching your skin. So soft.”

Against her lips, and with a smile, he asked, “Where is good for touching? Boobs, yes. Hips? Ass? Pussy?”

“Uh . . .”

“I'll take that as all yeses.” He snaked his hand below the stretchy band of the pants he'd given her to wear. “When you orgasmed before, was it by yourself?”

She nodded.

“I don't suppose you'd be willing to show me?”

“God, no. I couldn't do that.”

She could and at some point, he hoped she would. He dipped his fingers down her slick slit and stroked.

Oh, God, did that feel good. Carmen allowed her eyes to flutter closed and tried to ignore the fact that Liam was watching her and that her head was resting rather uncomfortably against the hard wood headboard of the bed. She took slow breaths and willed her body to relax.

Clearing her mind, she focused on every touch and movement Liam made. Women did this all the time without feeling awkward. Big women, bigger than her, had guys coming onto them. Maybe what Rosa said was true: Guys didn't care what you looked like as long as you were naked.

But she wasn't naked and Liam hadn't given up. From beneath her lashes, she stole a look at him. His shoulder muscles curved and bulged as he shifted. Whatever he just did with his hand was amazing and she forgot to breathe.

His free arm wrapped around her, underneath where she lay. “You might be more comfortable if you lay down.” He tugged until she scooted lower, which caused a delicious pressure when she collided with his palm.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened.

“Clitoral stimulation is a guarantee. Hard?” He pressed against her clit. “Soft?” He circled his thumb over and around it. “Fast?” He picked up the pace and she saw stars against her eyelids. “Slow?” He moved his fingers in a snail-like fashion.

“Yes.”

“To which?”

“Any.” She was breathless and had to remind herself to inhale. Tension coiled and spiraled through her. She threw her arm across her eyes to block out any acknowledgment of Liam and rode the pleasure he offered.

His head dipped down and he sucked her hard nipple into his mouth through the shirt. Wet cotton stuck to her and rasped against her sensitive skin, but it increased her enjoyment of everything. Her hips began to move, to meet Liam's ministrations. He pushed one long finger into her, followed quickly by a second, stretching her, but it didn't feel like enough. Not like when he was inside her.

With his fingers curled inside her, pumping in and out, his thumb pressed against her clit. Her breaths came in short gasps. This was too much. Something wasn't right, but she didn't want to correct it. She began to tingle where Liam touched her. She arched her back, pushing her chest up to meet his greedy mouth.

Her muscles began to tighten.

“That's it. Let go, Carmen.”

“I can't.” She was close. So close, she felt like she stood on the edge of something, clinging, afraid to fall.

Liam's hand moved faster than was humanly possible and her thighs shook. Her arms trembled and then a high-pitched squeak squeezed past her constricted airway. Every nerve in her body was on high alert.

Then she felt it: the falling, the explosion, the magic as her muscles contracted and released. Liam's arm was still wrapped around her and he held her while she came down. He stopped moving, but his hand hadn't left her. The position was so intimate, amazing.

When she moved her arm, she realized her cheeks were wet. Had she really cried? She was afraid to open her eyes to face Liam's blue stare. But he had more patience and she knew he would outwait her. She opened her eyes and hoped she didn't look like she had been crying.

“I told you I'd get you there.” He wore a smile of smug satisfaction.

“Wow.” She had no other word. Of course she'd heard tales of sex being like that. Volcanoes and fireworks and explosions. But she never thought it would be real for her.

Liam finally pulled his hand out from her pants, and embarrassment struck her again knowing that his hand was wet because of her. He smirked and put his finger to his mouth and licked it.